I just got back from running again. My oldest has been begging me to take him so this time I did. He didn't make it past a few blocks and said that he would have to walk the rest of the way. I told him to just go down a block and make a right and go home. The kid is nine years old, I don't know why I did this, but I was really reluctant to let him go. I did though and I saw him jogging off in the opposite direction. I immediately had thoughts of someone shooting him before he got to the front door or some car hitting him (they do speed down the street!). Before I knew it I heard sirens and it seemed like they never faded but just stopped eventually. I was far gone in my thoughts, thinking of a funeral, what I would say, how my husband would react, how empty the world would be, without my oldest. By the end of my run I was almost sobbing and when I realized this I saw how ridiculous I am! How utterly ridiculous! I always leave something and come back thinking that a doom bomb is going to hit.
When I lived in my house in Idaho we lived on a corner lot. If I went shopping and I had to drive by my house I would always look at it to make sure it was not "burning down". For years whenever I would leave the house I would tell my husband that if I never made it back home that I loved him.
Whenever I drive to D.C. now (or anywhere far and somewhat dangerous) I think, "this could be it! This could be my day!"
I suppose I have a fearful and fanciful mind.
At any rate, I was relieved to see my boy's shoes thrown on the entry way floor (I am never happy to see that, but I was thinking he could be dead!)---and I guess like Nemo's dad I need to "lighten up." Good grief.